


The Thing About Mario Götze

by CaptainBlood



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: AU, Adoption, Borussia Dortmund, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Football | Soccer, German National Team, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-help, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3603441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainBlood/pseuds/CaptainBlood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Reus lived a life that many could only dream of but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. </p><p>But his rash decisions turn into a whole lot more when he meets Mario Götze, a troubled young man whose luck has just run out.</p><p>Marco eventually finds out the hard way just why<i> curiosity killed the cat.</i></p><p>*Hiatus.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Situations

**Author's Note:**

> Why am I starting this when I already have another fic going on? 
> 
> To be honest, I don't know. This idea came to me and it was too weird not to gamble on. Hope you like it!
> 
> NOT beta read, mistakes are possible but I will try to edit them all out upon re-reading.

Marco Reus was very aware of the fact that his family, friends, and team mates all thought that he was crazy.

It didn't bother him, hell he would even admit that he was to a certain degree. But he could no longer deny the fact that he felt like something in his life was...missing. He was only twenty three years of age and he was well aware of the fact that he had a career many would kill for but that did little to cease the yearning he felt in the back of his mind.

He was a hometown hero in the form of a footballer for the infamous club, Borussia Dortmund. His life was constantly displayed on the big screen, no matter if he was on the clock or out for a stroll he was always in the spotlight. Fortunate as he was, as _happy_ as he was, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something in his life was just not adding up.

He was never a fan of jigsaw puzzles but he could easily compare his life to one. _"It's as if everything is complete but there is one piece missing from the pile._ He once said to his parents as they had a quiet evening dinner in the house he grew up in. They didn't try to understand it, and to a certain point Marco was glad that they didn't.

He wasn't sure he could have provided them with an answer even if they had asked about it.

To be frank, he may have had a lifestyle many could only dream of but in secret he dreamed of living a simple life. He couldn't say he regretted his choices because he didn't, but what he could say was that he was growing increasingly jealous of the people around him.

Even his team mates, some the same age as him, were getting their private lives sorted out and all Marco could manage was spending time with his friends. Not long ago he was completely oblivious to the pulling in his chest, the dull pained throbs in his heartbeat but there came a time when it was too great for him to ignore. 

Call him crazy for it, but he decided to adopt a child.

Some people had tried to rationalize the yearning as him realizing he was lonely without someone to come home too, but Marco knew better than that. He didn't end his last relationship for nothing and though his cover was _focusing on his career,_ that wasn't the case at all. He found romantic relationships enthralling, his previous partners did not.

 _Good things always come to an end,_ he had once been told by his mother as a child and he found the statement held true when it came to a lot of different things. Alas, he knew the difference between wanting a relationship and wanting something more. He couldn't begin to describe the feral instinct that drove him to the decision, but much like a mother would do anything to protect her children, it came to him. Almost naturally. 

So with that in mind he had called his agent on a sunny Tuesday afternoon and told him of his plans, meanwhile asking for advice on the process of adoption as he worked out a way to juggle his career and the task he was about to take on. But that much aside, he felt like having a child of his own was a part of his destiny. He was not going to question nature and he was always one to follow his gut instincts. He didn't care how other people took it.

His agent didn't try to detour him from it but Marco knew he didn't understand it either. No one else did, and if the blond was honest with himself he would say that he didn't honestly know either. He realized he was young, that he had all the time in the world to worry about kids and life after football but he also realized that for some unfathomable reason he wanted a child of his own more than he wanted air.

His agent placed some calls, Marco filed paperwork at several places and that was what brought him to an orphanage on the outskirts of Dortmund. To say he was nervous was an understatement, he was set to have a final interview with child services which would determine if he was eligible for adopting a child- which he truly hoped he was.

He checked himself over via the side of his car, using the shiny black Aston Martin as a makeshift mirror as he fiddled with the tie around his neck and made sure his suit was still smoothed over. Once satisfied he took a deep breath before walking the short distance from the parking lot to the building's front door. 

What he expected was for him to walk through the entrance and be greeted by a secretary who would walk him back to the room he would have his interview in. But what he didn't expect was for the front door to fly open, successfully hitting him in the face as a young man stormed out, bags in his hands and a scowl on his face.

"Mario, come back here this instant!" A woman howled as she suddenly appeared in front of Marco, politely brushing past him as she chased after the boy. 

The blond grimaced when he felt something wet drip onto the hand that was clutching his face, it was blood, blood that quickly stained his suit accompanied by a searing pain. He had imagined that day playing out in a variety of different circumstances but not once had he imagined his nose would be broken or that his Armani suit would be ridden with blood. 

Cursing, he turned on his heel and stalked bitterly towards his car in search of something to plug the bleeding. About halfway between his car and the building the woman who brushed past him was furiously whispering something to the young boy who did nothing but sneer at her. It was until the boy spoke up that Marco began to understand the situation.

"No it's bullshit, Anna! You guys literally just wished me a happy eighteenth birthday and now you're telling me I have to leave because I'm too old to stay here? Where am I going to go? A homeless shelter? You don't seem to remember this but I kind of don't have a family or any friends so I'm completely and utterly fucked, Anna. Thank you very much." The boy, who Marco remember being called Mario said with a bitter laugh as he sat his bags down on the ground.

Marco watched the scene play out before him, no longer finding it necessary to go to his car though the bleeding did not stop. His sleeve would suffice for the moment considering he was a bit keen on finding out more about why this Mario kid found it necessary to slam a door in his face, quite literally.  
_Curiosity killed the cat_ but in this case Marco felt like got a bit more than he had initially bargained for.

"Mario I'm sorry! You know that's how the system works and there is nothing I can do to stop it. You're a lovely boy Mario, but I no longer have the money that's needed to take care of you. I know this sounds horrible but we are an orphanage for kids under the age of eighteen. You know we need the space and you knew this would happen when you became an adult!" The woman Anna explained as she wiped tears from her eyes, completely oblivious of the fact Marco was standing beside them, awestruck.

"Well excuse me for hoping that it wouldn't. How was I supposed to know my last _family_ ," Mario threw up mock quotations with a sour look on his face, "would give me back to you guys. I realize I'm not exactly a bundle of sunshine to have around but I think I deserve a little time to adjust to things before being hurdled back into this shit hole I've called home for the last ten years." 

"I know, and that was completely unfair to you and I'm sorry. Mario...we've tried to help you but you wouldn't work with the therapists, you wouldn't even take what they said into consideration. You violently attacked your foster mom, Mario. We didn't know what to do with you and when the Mueller's came here and took you home I prayed to God that we had finally found the right family for you." Anna said as she continued to wipe at her eyes, Marco found himself biting his lip in order to prevent him from getting involved.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, Anna. That kid had it coming, he knew I couldn't handle talking about my real parents and yet he egged me on, he had it coming and I'm not sorry I did it." Mario said gruffly as he crossed his arms across his chest. Marco wondered for a moment why neither of them had noticed him but deducted that they were just too caught up in their argument to notice anything else. 

He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pity for the boy who was clearly trying to hold it together by playing the tough guy role. He couldn't necessarily get over the fact the kid broke his nose in a rage filled exit but it wasn't like he was going to make a big deal out of it. Especially not when the kid was clearly going through some things Marco couldn't even begin to relate too. 

"Mario you broke the Mueller boy's arm, they tried to get you to apologize and you wouldn't. That's when they brought you back here." Anna rationalized as she took a step towards the young man, who in turn took a step backwards.

"Six months, Anna. They had me for six months and they couldn't even cut me some slack?" Mario hissed as he uncrossed his arms and reached down for his bags. "Why am I even standing here arguing with you? I have more important things to take care of, like finding a place to live or finding a way to off myself by nightfall. Have a good one." 

"Hey!" Marco called out in order to prevent the boy from leaving, two pairs of eyes fell on the footballer as he jogged towards them, no longer attempting to cover the blood that still trickled down his face. "You kind of broke my nose, and I might have over heard your conversation..." Marco explained as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

The woman cursed and fished around in her coat pocket before brandishing a pocket size pack of tissues that she offered to the blond, who took them with a "thank you." 

"I'm so sorry about that, sir. As you probably heard we're having a bit of a tough time today. You must be-"

"Marco Reus, you play for Borussia Dortmund." Mario interrupted the lady as he once again dropped his bags on the asphalt. 

"Uhm, yeah. You like Dortmund?" Marco inquired as he wiped away at his nose, becoming slightly flustered when he realized how horrible he must have looked. He watched Mario chuckle before a dark look grew on his features.

"Hate them, actually." 

Marco raised an eyebrow as he wadded up the bloodied tissue, picking another one up in order to wipe the blood off of his face seeing as the bleeding finally stopped. Mario nodded his head with a smug grin.

"Don't tell me you like Schalke, I might be ill." Marco teased with a cheeky grin, something the younger male surprisingly returned. 

"No, I'm a Bayern Fan," Mario responded with a hint of amusement. "But that's not to say I necessarily hate you, in fact I rather like you. You just play for the wrong team." 

At this the footballer laughed and nodded his head before casting a look at Anna who was only staring at the pair in utter bewilderment. "Touche, touche." 

"Mario don't you have something to say to Mr. Reus?" She insisted as she brushed her long blond hair out of her aging face, her eyes were narrowed as if she was scolding her own child but from what Marco could understand this woman was the closest thing the boy had to one.

"Yeah, I wish I would have slammed the door harder, maybe it would have knocked some sense into you. You don't want any of those problematic kids, you'll just give up on them and frankly you wouldn't have time to deal with anyone of them. Believe it or not there aren't any newborns in stock and the older kids are just as cranky as I am." Mario smirked when Anna cursed at him, but all Marco could do was stare at the kid in utter shock.

The way the kid demoralized the cause and made it sound as if it were a supermarket truly got under the blond's skin, but at the same time he could practically feel the hatred and animosity for the place. He would let the _apology_ go and not bring it up again but what he would let go was the burning curiosity he felt. 

He wondered how on earth someone like Mario ended up as _hateful_ as he was. Marco's own friend and team mate Kuba had seen grizzly things as a child but never once redirected it at other people. Though from what the footballer could decipher it didn't exactly sound like this Mario guy had had a decent life in any sense. 

Even more troubling was the fact that Marco no longer had any desire to go inside the building and sit down with Anna. The longing feeling in his chest had been morphed into something much more feral, the feeling of wanting to _help_ someone. 

"You've got a wicked sense of humor, Mr..." Marco began as he looked the boy over. 

"Götze," said man declared as he stuck his hand out in Marco's direction. The blond glanced down at his own before offering his left hand, the hand without the slightest trace of blood, to Mario. He was surprised the kid had any form of manners, considering his vulgarity and all around distaste for others it was astonishing that he even cared enough to properly introduce himself. 

Mario looked a lot younger than he really was, Marco thought once the handshake ended. His cheeks were still a bit on the round side and his sun kissed skin only added to the look of youth that seemed to radiate from every one of his pores. Marco was incredibly envious and downright amazed by the younger man's beauty- as sick and twisted as it sounded, even to him.

"Mr. Reus, I apologize again for him. He's a troubled boy-"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Anna. You should know better than that." Mario corrected as he picked up his bags once again, "well it was nice to meet you, Mr. Reus. I'm off to shittier and more degrading things. I hope Dortmund gets destroyed next week, but I wish you all the best, regardless." 

Marco watched the boy walk down the street and away from the building and while he longed to call out or say something to stop him from going he was at a loss for words. _You can't save the world, Marco._ His subconscious told him as he balled the tissue in his hand up into a wad, but it didn't make it any easier to admit.

"Mr. Reus, would you like to come inside and finish your interview process? Again, I'm sorry he did that to you. Mario is a disturbed child....well adult now, please do not hold that against him or think that he represents the other children we have in our care. He needs more help than we imagined and we did try our best with him, there's only so much you can do somet-"

"So you tossed him out on the street to fend for himself because the money dried up and because you could no longer handle him?" Marco asked as he turned to face the woman, a hard line pressed on his lips. "That speaks volumes about you and your facilities, actually. I think I made a mistake by coming here." 

"Mr. Reus, please wait!" Anna called as she chased after someone for the second time on that day but this time she wouldn't catch up with her target in time. Marco was peeling out of the parking lot before she could even reach his parking spot, and with the adoption center now in the rear view mirror he began the daunting task of navigating the suburban streets in search of the walking contradiction that was Mario Götze.


	2. Got Me on My Toes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If you are a cliffhanger ending_  
>  I’m the one that doesn’t know anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, first off thank you all so much for the lovely comments and kudos you lot left last time around, I really appreciate them! <3
> 
> Secondly, be prepared for more Sassy! Mario because I find it's just downright enjoyable, hope you've come prepared. ;D 
> 
> Also, my other current fic will be updated tomorrow, I accidentally deleted the next chapter (doh) and will have to rewrite it. D: (I feel like this happens to me more than it should...)
> 
> And lastly, this is not beta read, mistakes are possible but I will try to catch them and edit them at a later time. Please bare with me! 
> 
> That's all, hope you enjoy!

Marco weaved down the windy streets with new found expertise as he continued his search for Mario. He couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty, though he had nothing to do with the situation itself. Simply put, Marco couldn't even begin to understand what the young man must have been feeling and for that he felt horrible.

He couldn't ignore the searing pain in his face and he knew he would have a field day explaining it to Klopp, but that much he could take care of. As he coasted down the roads, eyes darting from side to side, he wondered what he would do when, and if, he found Mario. 

There wasn't anything he could say to possibly make the situation better and he seriously doubted the young man would care to listen to any voice of reason. But as he pondered what his next move would be he spotted him walking towards the city center. With a quick glance in the side view mirror, Marco quickly switched lanes before coming to a complete stop beside Mario.

With shaking fingers, Marco pushed the switch that rolled the window down before calling out the other man's name. Mario whipped his head around instantaneously, eyes scanning the vehicle that pulled up beside him with a hint of confusion. The scowl he wore so well was still plastered on his lips and for that reason, Marco cringed.

"Mr. Reus can I do anything for you?" Mario questioned impatiently as he dropped his bags to the ground, arms crossing in front of his chest in a defensive manner.

The footballer gulped.

"Well no, actually I was going to ask you the same thing." 

At this the younger man let out a guttural laugh, a noise so sickly sweet that Marco swore he felt nauseous. He wasn't kidding when he asked the question, though he didn't exactly know what he could do to help Mario he just knew he had to do something.

Once again, Marco always trusted his gut. No matter how rash or stupid the decisions seemed to be.

"No, there isn't. Now if that's all you wanted then I'll just be on my way." The blond watched the younger man pick up his bags and walk a few yards before calling out to him again. This time Mario responded with an abrupt, albeit rude, " **what?"**

"Look...just...get in." Marco said as he resisted the urge to face palm, not very keen on hitting his already broken nose. Mario backtracked until he was close enough to the Aston Martin to see the blond behind the wheel, and for a moment Marco thought the conversation would end there and the younger man would get in the car. But that wasn't quite the case.

"You're being irrational," Mario stated sourly as he kicked at the concrete beneath his feet. "You really want to destroy your image, don't you? First you want a kid, now you want to try and have some impact on my life? Mr. Reus it honestly sounds like you don't know what you really want and frankly I think you're an idiot."

Marco's mouth hung open for a few awkward moments after the statement was said, partially in shock and partially in realization of how big of an idiot he was truly being. He was well aware of the fact that he didn't always make smart choices and he knew his image had, in the past, been tarnished a bit but not once did he care enough to take it into consideration.

Athletes had organizations of their own for kids in need, for people without homes, and many other causes and while Marco participated in several he had so selfishly tried to change his own life, not another persons. Tabloids, rumors, _bullshit_ aside Marco realized what he had to do. After all, it wasn't always the best decisions that made people memorable. 

"Yeah, I know that much, kid. But I'm not going to be a bystander to something so unjust when I have the means to help out. So...if you're willing to let me help you then I will be more than happy to do that." 

"Hm," Mario shifted his weight back and forth for a moment as he pondered the proposition that was offered to him, "no thanks. I don't need any more charity." 

Marco was pretty sure at that point that his facial expression was nothing short of flabbergasted, shocked be damned, for the life of him he could not understand this kid or his attitude. 

"Mario, can I call you that?" 

"No, we aren't that friendly so Mr. Götze is preferred." 

Marco cringed.

"Mr. Götze...do you really want to live on the streets? I'm not offering you any sort of charity but I think I could get you a job and help you get on your feet. I can't imagine being in your shoes and frankly, I want to help. Call me stupid or what have you but I know this is what I want to do." The blond drummed his fingers along the steering wheel as he let his words sink in, and to his surprise the passenger door swung open.

Mario tossed his bags into the small space in the back before climbing in, a clearly unamused look on his face. Marco waited until he heard the door shut and the boy fasten his seat belt before he eased the car back onto the road, this time heading in the direction of his home. The silence was awkward and the air began to grow heavy, so much so that Marco kept his window rolled down in a desperate attempt to breathe some fresh air.

"Marco..." Mario began as he cast a glance at the older man, the latter merely smirked.

"It's Mr. Reus...we aren't that friendly, remember?" 

The younger boy chuckled loudly and from the corner of Marco's eye he saw the boy visibly relax, something that took a little less tension out of the situation. 

"You learn pretty fast, don't you?" Mario asked as the car circled around the city in the direction towards the footballer's home. Marco nodded his head and made a noise of acknowledgment in hopes that the boy would continue where he initially left off.

"Don't think I'm doing this because I want too, frankly the option you presented benefits me more and that's the only reason why I'm doing this. Additionally, if you're thinking of getting me a job at your shitty football club then you can forget it. I'm never wearing those god awful colors and I'm never going to support that shit team, sorry but I'm not sorry." 

"Mario," Marco realized the other man went to correct him but he choose to talk over him. "You don't have a choice, you probably have no work history and you have no address. There is no way in hell you will find a job unless someone sticks their neck out for you and _frankly_ your attitude sucks. Do you want me to turn the car around and drop you back off where I found you?" 

The blond sighed in frustration as he pulled up to his gated community, all the while Mario didn't dare say another word. The footballer quickly typed in the pass code before driving towards his lavish home, his hands clenched the steering wheel as he channeled some of his anger into his driving. 

"Mr. Reus?" Mario asked apprehensively as they closed in on the street where Marco's house stood. The older man grunted in recognition. "I...I'm an asshole." 

Marco nearly choked after the words were said. Not only was it unexpected but he just couldn't imagine the same kid who called him _stupid_ saying something so blatantly awful about himself. As the footballer pulled his car into the drive way of his home he threw it into park and faced the man next to him. 

Mario was staring blankly ahead, his arms wrapped around himself as he paid no heed to the eyes that were trailing up and down him in a desperate search for a response. Marco bit his lip.

"Was that supposed to be an apology?" He asked as he carefully took the key out of the ignition before gently touching his nose, trying to figure out the best way to set it once he got inside.

"I guess...but can I ask you somethings?" 

"Mhm, anything," Marco promised as he finally caught the boys attention. He couldn't help but notice the small amount of fear that seemed to linger in the younger man's honey brown eyes. 

"Are you doing this because it will make you look like a better person or because you genuinely want too?" 

"Because I want too, I don't care what the media has to say because they don't truly know who I am and they never will." Marco answered automatically, albeit honestly, as he clasped his hands together. Mario nodded his head before asking the next question.

"Are you mad that I inadvertently broke your nose?" 

"No, it was an accident. My boss might be a bit pissed, though." The blond answered with a chuckle as he waved the question off, quite literally, while he motioned for the other man to continue with his questioning. He didn't blame Mario for wanting answers because a part of him knew he had somethings to explain before they got anywhere or developed an understanding for one another.

"Also, Marco..." Mario's eyes grew a shade darker as the gaze he held dropped to his own hands, his interest suddenly going from Marco's eyes to his own fingernails. "Are..." the younger man took a deep breath, "are you just going to give up one me, too?" 

The footballer's eyes widened in shock at the question, he hadn't even begun to try and help the boy and here he was, already doubting the sincerity of Marco's words and actions. He felt sick to his stomach for some reason he couldn't begin to fathom as he let the question replay over and over again his head, Mario's eyes never rose to meet his again.

_He's scared shitless._

"No, I'm not Mario. I told you that I would do my part and I meant it. You don't know me from Adam and I don't know you either but I think what that Anna lady did was wrong and disgusting.... I want to help you, okay? I think fate brings people together sometimes, as silly as that may sound to you. But let's face the facts that we have right now, I'm apparently missing something in my life and you need a helping hand. Let's just leave it at that and see what happens, all right?" 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Mario answered with a sigh as he reached around behind the passenger seat and pulled his bags into his hands, he finally looked back up at Marco. "Where are you going to take me?" 

"Well inside for now, I think it's about to storm," Marco paused to point out of his windshield as he used his other hand to roll the car window up. "I need to set my nose and get cleaned up and I bet you're starving. Once we eat something we can work out the fine details, okay?" 

"Why are you being so nice to me? I broke your nose, called you an idiot, and have done everything but wish death upon your team mates and shitty club. I don't get it." Mario shook his head slightly as he returned his attention to his hands, something Marco was beginning to think was a nervous habit.

"I've had worse, really...and to be honest, I don't know. I won't lie to you and say that I do so let's just leave it at that. Now c'mon, I want to get this taken care of." Marco motioned towards his nose as he opened the driver's side door and fished his house key out of his pocket. Mario exited the car, bags in hand, and followed the blond blindly until they got to the back door. 

Marco made quick work of unlocking the padlock and disarming the alarm before holding the door open for the younger man who entered his home without a word. Simultaneously, the rain Marco predicted began to fall from the sky at an incredible rate. 

"Do you want me to help you fix your nose?" Mario questioned as he stood awkwardly in the foyer while Marco shut and locked the door up again. The blond shrugged before waving for the younger man to follow him into the kitchen, which he did without protest.

"Just give me a moment," Marco insisted as he grabbed a mirror and a hand towel from the bathroom adjacent to the kitchen; Mario leaned against the island of the kitchen as he watched the blond lay the objects out before grabbing a chair. The Dortmund player took a seat before blowing his nose into the towel, something that made the younger man's nose turn up. 

"Now just make sure I don't chicken out, this is the part that sucks." Marco instructed as he pressed his fingers together to form a triangle before pressing lightly on the top of his nose, he swore he saw stars. With a few awkward and painful movements he snapped the misplaced cartilage back into place. Checking his handy work in the mirror he shot Mario, who seemed to have gone an awful shade of green, a thumbs up.

"That was disgusting," the younger man commented as the footballer took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. 

"Nothing glamorous about it, that's for sure. Would you mind wetting a paper towel for me? The sink is behind you." Mario nodded his head with a reluctant sigh as he pushed himself off of the island and did as the blond had asked. Once the task was completed he offered it to Marco who took it with a polite, "thank you." 

"So I have one more thing to say." Mario announced as he watched the older male make quick work of cleaning the blood off of his face and neck, the latter grunted.

"You can call me Mario now." He confirmed with a sly grin as he crossed his arms across his chess. Marco merely smirked. While he didn't know what to expect when it came to Mario Götze he was more than willing to stay on his toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/kudos are amazing and always welcome. If you're feeling so kind, I'd be delighted to hear what you think!


	3. My Understandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a bit late and short, but I had a lack of time today. -.-
> 
> Anyway, hello everyone! It is good to be back and in business once more, I thank those of you who are still following this story and I sincerely appreciate all of the get well wishes I have recieved over the last few months. I am much better now and a lot happier, and of course, less stressed! So i'll stop blabbing now but please, enjoy! :D
> 
> ALSO FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR! I will follow you back. :D
> 
> therealcaptainblood.tumblr.com

"We're going shopping since it stopped raining," Marco stated blandly as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, having discarded his suit into the hamper. Mario was stretched on his white leather sofa, shoes that were covered in dirt propped up against equally white pillows. Marco resisted the urge to slap them off. 

"Okay? I'm kind of broke so I'd rather not." Mario said with disinterest as he yawned and sunk further down into the couch, a smug grin on his face as he reached for the television remote. Marco quickly stalked towards him and snatched the device out of his hands with an angry frown. "Rude, are we?" 

"Yeah, you are. Get up, I'm not letting you sit in my house by yourself. Let's go," The footballer said with annoyance as he placed the small black remote onto a coffee table. "I'm serious." 

"I can tell, but so am I. I don't want to go, end of discussion." Mario seethed as he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes narrowing as he latched onto Marco's own.

"Mario this is not open for discussion, you're going to get off of my couch and get into my car or I'm going to make you." 

"Stop acting like my god damn parent, will you?" Mario exclaimed as he shot up from the couch, his hands going out by his sides. "Do you realize that I have opinions, too? I don't have to agree with everything you want to do, Marco. Get over yourself." As Mario tried to brush past the footballer, the latter caught his arm and spun him around.

"You forget your position, I'm afraid. You're staying in my home so you will follow my rules without fail, should you choose to do anything else then I wi-" Marco caught himself before he finished his threat, a flashback from earlier in the day came to his mind as an image of Mario's eyes filled with fear bored into head. The younger man frowned.

"God, you're seriously an asshole." Mario muttered with a tone of pain as he finally finished the task of getting around the older man. Marco didn't even bother to watch where he went after he heard a door slam closed behind him, he knew he wasn't going to leave but still the desire to chase after him was too strong to deny.

With a deep sigh, Marco spun on his heel and exited the front door himself, to his relief Mario was sitting on his front porch. The younger man didn't turn to face him but as Marco craned his neck downward he could see that Mario was more focused on something else. He only got a quick glimpse at it but it appeared to be a picture of a man and a woman, almost like a portrait. 

Soon after that Mario stuffed the picture back into his pocket and turned his head around slightly, just enough so he could see the man standing behind him. His eyes were no longer full of rage but mirrored something more akin to regret, something Marco couldn't even begin to place or understand, but he immediately felt guilty for it.

"Can I sit?" The blond asked as he pointed to a bare spot on the same step. Mario reluctantly nodded his head and scooted over, giving the athlete room to sit. "Mario..."

"Don't," the dark haired boy interrupted as he looked down at the concrete. "Just...don't, okay?" 

"But Mario, I..." Marco took a deep breath as he rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans, a nervous habit he had never quite kicked. "This is new to me, obviously, and I know I haven't exactly been a delight to be around but I need you to stop treating me like this. I have only known you for about 5 hours and you've already insulted me to the point of me threatening you.

I don't want you to think of me as some horrible person because I think you'd realize I'm not if you actually gave me a chance to be myself. I wanted to take you shopping, I don't need anything but a new suit jacket. I just figured we could get some things for you and grab some groceries, okay? I wasn't trying to offend you and I'm sorry if it came off that way.

I just don't want the next...well...god knows how long...to be full of moments like that. I need you to just give me the smallest amount of trust that you can and I promise that I will make the most of it." Marco glanced over at his companion with a slight glimmer of hope, though he had his doubts about the younger man's answer, he was hopeful that at least they could come to yet another understanding.

"Okay."

"Okay? That's it?" The Dortmund star repeated with a laugh, one that earned him a sharp punch in the shoulder. 

"Yes, okay. But I swear to God Marco," said man glanced at his new house mate warily. "If you want me to respect you then you're gonna have to give me some time, all right? Don't take it too personally. I hate everyone for the most part and yes, I said I rather liked you earlier in the day but it's not like I know you well enough to like your personality just yet. 

So fine, I'll trust you on this but please know that you're going to have to patient with me. I'm not a nice person, I know that and so do most people who have the displeasure of knowing me but believe it or not, I have feelings, too. I can't promise that I won't say stupid things if you do something dumb then I'm going to tell you what I think about it; but I promise I'll at least...try to...keep myself in check." 

The last words rolled off of the orphaned boy's tongue like thick sludge, they were almost inaudible but it was apparent that admitting he had an attitude problem wasn't something he was too pleased about. Marco took it as a small victory.

"I think you and I could probably share some clothes, honestly. You're about my size but I think you'd probably prefer to have some of your own too, yeah?" 

"That would be appreciated, yes, but I don't want you to buy me anything. You're already kind of sticking your neck out for me." Mario answered sadly as he scratched the back of his neck in an awkward attempt to calm himself down. 

"It's not exactly like money is an issue, I think we can manage." Marco said slyly as he shot a small smile in the younger man's direction, Mario reluctantly returned it.

"You're sure?" 

"Positive." The footballer answered as he stood up from his spot on the front porch step, he offered a hand to the shorter man who took it with a look of confusion.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an extremely odd human being? Because I sincerely think you are," Mario stated as he stretched out his limbs, and followed the other man back inside the house. The home owner giggled.

"You wouldn't be the first to say that, I think I'm quite odd myself." He answered with complete honesty, "do you want to go now or do you maybe wanna look around in my closet and see if you want anything out of there first?"

Mario glanced down at his ripped jeans and grimy sneakers before taking a deep breath and accepting the offer to look around the house before leaving for the shops. Marco didn't mention the look of shame the younger man carried on his face whilst he browsed the huge closet in search of things he liked, but it also did little to soothe the sympathy he felt for the other man.

"Marco, are you sure you don't mind me doing this? I feel bad..." Mario admitted as he once again cast his eyes toward the ground. Marco took a careful handful of steps forward until he was only an arms length away, he placed his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder.

"Mario if I cared then I wouldn't have offered." He said through a forced smile as he looked around his companion and laid eyes on several button up shirts. "Here, start by getting a few of these, then just work your way around, I doubt my pants are going to fit but you'll probably see that most of this stuff still has the tags on it. I got it not too long ago but the more I think about it, the less I think it would look good on me. It would be perfect for you, though." 

Mario glanced backwards with a frown on his face before running his hands over the fabric that hung from different hangers on different levels. With some reluctance he slowly plucked the items free from their holders and laid them out in Marco's open arms. Much to their surprise they shared the same shoe size as well, so Marco insisted on giving him two pairs of shoes for every possible occasion. 

By the time the two were finished Mario swore he didn't even need to go out but still the footballer insisted and wouldn't take no for answer. 

"Here, let's take these up to the _master_ guest room, I think you'll like that one the best. It's the same size as mine but has a smaller bathroom. The closet size is exactly the same, which will come in handy." Marco promised as he politely handed his new house guest his backpack before they grabbed an armful of clothes and accessories. 

"Marco believe it or not, I don't need that many clothes. I don't exactly have anyone to impress and I don't have anywhere I have to be, unlike you."

"Not so fast, sunny. You do realize the moment we step foot in public that it's a free for all, right?" Marco paused as he opened the first door on the right after the spiral staircase. "Fans, media, it never ends. You're probably going to wind up being photographed a few times today, so don't think it's for nothing.

Also, when I help get you set up at the club then you're going to have to dress nicely. It's policy. But anyway, here's your room. Bathroom is on the right, closet on the far wall, and the balcony is to your left. Hope this is all right for you."

"All right?" Mario asked in awe as he sat the clothes down on what appeared to be a king sized bed, his backpack fell dully against the dark wooden floors. "You do realize I slept in a bunk bed with a thirteen year old and lived in a home with thirty three other people, right? This is fucking paradise in comparison." 

Marco bit his lip and nodded his head awkwardly as he placed the remainder of the clothes on the other end of the bed. "Well I hope you make yourself at home, it's going to be nice to have the company, I must say. It gets a bit lonely staying in this big house all by myself." 

Mario shot him a funny look, "alone? You don't constantly have women and friends over? You've got to be kidding me." It was Marco's turn to return the look as he leaned against a bed post.

"Is that really how I come off? Like I've got parties going on nonstop?" He asked out of curiosity, which he realized was probably the wrong decision considering Mario Götze was the one giving him an answer.

"Yeah, you do. Maybe if you stopped getting photographed at clubs and stopped dying your hair then people would be a bit more inclined to think differently about you." Mario chided as he walked over to the walk in closet and flicked the light on. His head poked back around the corner a moment later, "and would you please get this shitty Dortmund stuff out of here? It's bad enough that I might have to work for them, I don't want to see it here as well." 

Fighting the urge to scream, Marco traipsed over to the closet and began removing said _nuisances_ with a scowl on his face, he would’ve sworn that he saw Mario smirk. The blond rolled his eyes.

_God, give me patience._


	4. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco learns how much his patience is truly needed and Mario starts to relax, if only a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't very long but I hope you enjoy it. :O The next chapter will be about 3x the length of this one! XD

"Your total is..." the woman behind the counter of the clothing store squinted as her eyes honed in on a number, "six thousand five hundred even."

"Sixty five hundred?" Marco asked with a raised eyebrow as he fished his wallet out of his pocket, Mario chuckled quietly in the background.

"Yes, sir." The woman responded with a bright smile as she held out her hand for the black colored visa, Marco reluctantly handed it over.

"Seems a bit high for six pairs of jeans, two pairs of slacks, and a suit jacket." The blond scoffed as the woman handed the card back to him along with a receipt, Mario grabbed the bag she placed the clothes in.

"Well the jeans are all a part of the new line that just dropped, that's why they're so pricey." She explained with a shrug as she pointed over to the display that brandished the clothing.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Thank you so much," Marco said with a smile though it was forced in it's entirety. The woman smiled back nervously and thanked the pair for coming into the store and shopping. Mario scoffed as they exited the store, a few camera men in tow as they pestered the footballer for a moment or for a photo. 

Marco complied then asked for some peace and quiet, which to Mario's surprise, the reporters seemed willing to give in exchange. The younger man leaned against the exterior of a shop as Marco rambled on and on, answering some questions and posing for photos- seemingly oblivious to the impatient man waiting on him. 

"Have a good night," Marco dismissed with a wave as he nodded his head in Mario's direction, signaling for him to follow him out of the mall. The latter followed him blindly, hand wrapped around the bag's handle as they quickly made their way into Marco's parked Aston Martin. 

"God, how do you cope with that nonsense?" Mario said with a scowl as he rubbed his temples, a head ache forming out of no where as the two headed back in the direction of their now shared home. Marco shrugged and tapped his fingers on his steering wheel.

"I'm used to it at this point, ever since the club's crisis started up the media storm has been even worse. Then I signed my contract extension and now it's all blowing back up again." The footballer explained as he turned onto the highway- the quickest route back to his home. 

"Yeah why did you sign that extension?" Mario asked with a chuckle as he cracked his knuckles, "you might as well go to Bayern. You're not going to win anything a-"

"Shut up and watch your mouth around me, I'm not going to let you bad my club after I just spent six thousand euros on you. I signed one because I love Dortmund, you know nothing of loyalty." Marco hissed in warning, Mario bit his lip, his eyes rolling as he propped his elbow against the side paneling so he could rest his head.

"Sorry Mr. Grum-"

"Shit, sorry." Marco cursed as a loud ring interrupted their _conversation_ , the driver clicked the **answer** button on his steering wheel. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Mats. Sorry to bother you, I know we have a couple days off but some of the guys and I were going to get together and have a cookout. Maybe play some ball, or basketball or something, too. You down?" 

"Who's hosting?" Marco asked with a frown as he glanced at Mario out of the corner of his eye, "it's what? Six thirty? Isn't that a bit late to start a cookout?" 

"Auba's? He didn't tell you?" Mats asked with a gruff chuckle, "you know he's got that dope light set up in his backyard. The time is not an issue unless you decide to be a grandpa and go to bed early."

"Says the guy who usually goes to sleep at ten thirty? Cry me a river." Marco responded with a laugh as he turned and mouthed _be quiet_ to Mario. The latter huffed in response. "Well I'd love to go but I have a friend with me, he's gonna be staying with me for a bit because some stuff has popped up and I don't feel comfortable leaving him alone right now." 

"You think Pierre would care? Seriously, Marco? The man's your friend, you know he couldn't care less." The Dortmund captain responded with a sigh, "but I'll ask him if you want me to? It sounds like you're driving right now, your car sounds magnificent even over the phone."

"Damn right she does," the blond teased as he turned onto his street. "Yeah, just ask him for me if you don't mind, tell him I'll owe him a trip to the bar if he complies." 

"Will do, I'll text you and let you know what he says. See you soon, mate." 

"See you," Marco answered as he ended the phone call and reached over to punch in the code to his neighborhood, the gate swung open slowly. His phone screen was lit up with several messages from his friends, all asking him if he was going to show up and he could only wonder how he hadn't noticed it sooner. "Today's been a long day." 

"Yeah it has, and now you want to drag me out to meet your team mates? You sure that's a good idea?" Mario groaned as he gave his companion his best puppy dog eyes. "Marco, I really have had a long day, can we just stay in?" 

"Mario it will be good for you to get out and meet the guys, you'll probably be seeing a lot of them, okay? They'll like you as long as you keep your insults to yourself and stop bad mouthing the club. Remember when you said you'd try to keep your attitude in check?" The footballer responded as he pulled his car around the house in his home's long driveway. 

"I know but I..." Mario buried his head in his hands, "I have a headache and to be honest I'm really fucking upset and I want to sleep so I can forget today even happened." 

Marco tried to ignore the sadness that leaked in the younger boy's voice but he found it next to impossible. Hopping out of his car he paraded over to the passenger side and flung the door open, his knees bending until he was on eye level with his new house mate. 

"I know this has got to be hard on you and that's exactly why I want you to come out with me. I think meeting some new people and making friends with them will be good for you," Marco frowned when Mario didn't turn to look at him.

"I don't want anymore friends, you're the only one I actually need." Mario murmured quietly through uneven breaths. Marco's eyes widened in disbelief but then softened in understanding, his eyes focused in on the small tremors that shook the younger boy's body and with every fiber of his being he wanted to make them stop. 

"I appreciate that you consider me a friend already," Marco whispered as he placed a calming hand in the middle of the brunette haired man's back, the shaking didn't stop entirely but slowed.

"You told that Hummels guy that we were friends so I took it to heart, I'm not entirely evil." Mario responded with a sigh as he raised his head at long last, his hands furiously wiped the liquid away from his eyes. "I'm sorry about that." 

"No, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to push you like that, okay?" Marco offered weakly with a frown as he extended his hand, "let's go inside and find something to eat. We can go to the store another time and we can stay in tonight." 

"I'm fine," Mario insisted as he politely brushed Marco's hand away and exited the vehicle, his shopping bag in hand. "Let me get this stuff put away then I'll see if I can change my mind." 

"Mario you don't have to do that, it's fine...seriously," Marco insisted as he locked his car and typed in the code to his garage, the pair entered the house silently. 

"Is it okay if I take a shower?" Mario asked awkwardly as he shifted his weight back and forth, Marco eyed him warily.

"You don't even have to ask, there are towels in your bathroom and a blow dryer is under the sink if you use one of those. Products are in the cabinet in there, I think fresh razors and soap are already in the shower but you can double check." The Dortmund star said with a smile as he gently brushed his hand over his nose, wincing while he did so. Mario grimaced.

"I'm still really sorry about that," the younger man muttered as he turned around and made his way up the stairs. Marco watched him disappear into the guest room before pulling out some pots and pans to get their dinner started.

"I know you are."

\- - -

"Mario, dinner is done!" Marco hollered as he wiped the sweat away from his brow and slipped the apron off of his head. He had prepared a simple mix of grilled chicken and vegetable mixed in an Asian inspired sauce- something easy enough to make and delicious enough to savor.

He was proud of his work. He was by no means a good cook but his mother had taught him well enough to follow recipes and that was something he was grateful for. He couldn't stand the thought of having to rely on someone to cook and clean. Though he wasn't always the most organized person he was certainly someone who had too much pride to rely that much on others. 

Mario appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, his hair was styled in a way that Marco approved of, and his skin seemed to glow- much differently than it had when he first arrived. A black v-neck Marco had given him covered his chest while a pair of the younger man's body hugging jeans completed the look. Throw in a wrist watch he must have found in the guest room and a pair of black Nike shoes and Marco would swear that he looked like a completely different person.

"Well that looks good on you," the footballer said with a wink and a laugh as he fished two plates out of the kitchen cabinet, offering one to Mario as he kept the other one for himself.

"I'd hope so, you spent a fortune on me." The Bayern fan stated with a twinge of guilt as he gazed at the food. "Which I seriously can't thank you enough for. Also, this food looks way too healthy for my tastes but it looks amazing at the same time. Is that some sort of trick you athletes have for avoiding junk food?" 

At this Marco genuinely laughed. 

"I guess you could say that! Try it, I promise it tastes a lot better than it looks. We could always bake some pretzels or something if you're in the mood for something more savory." The blond suggested as he offered Mario a serving spoon and a fork, "help yourself."

"Thanks," the younger boy responded as he scooped several spoonfuls of the chicken and vegetable mix onto his plate. "Also, pretzels may or may not be my weakness." 

"Oh really now?" Marco asked with a smirk as he grabbed his share of food and led the other man to the dining room table, both having a seat where they were sitting directly across from one another.

"Yeah, always have been." Mario admitted as he took a large bite of the food, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wow," he said as he finished chewing, "you're right. That's really good." 

Marco smiled.

"I'm glad you like it, eat as much as you want." He stated with sincerity as he opened a napkin and placed it in his lap. 

And eat was all Mario seemed to do for the next twenty five minutes. Marco could hardly believe how utterly ravenous the other man seemed but he didn't question it either. He couldn't imagine being that hungry. He might have joked about being _starved_ in the past but he had never seen someone inhale food as fast as his companion had. 

His heart ached just the slightest bit.

"Ugh I regret that," Mario whispered after sometime as he laid his head on the dark wooden table, Marco made a noise of understanding. "I don't feel so good now."

"Are you going to be sick?" He asked as he eyed his house mate who merely groaned. "Come on, the bathroom is just down the hall." He offered as he stood up from his chair and pulled on the younger man's arm, to his surprise Mario went willingly. 

He didn't keep track of how long Mario stayed in the bathroom as he did the dishes and cleaned up the mess he made but he couldn't shake the frown that stayed present on his face either. _It all makes so much sense now, just stay patient Marco. He needs your understanding._

"Marco?" 

Said man whipped his head around and made eye contact with the speaker who looked much better than he had just a short while ago- which seemed to be a reoccurring theme.

"Let's go to your friend's house, I changed my mind."

Marco could hardly believe his ears.


	5. Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't exactly go as planned but they don't fall apart either. The guys are just as accepting as Marco makes them out to be and Mario gives the blond a taste of what his past was like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Semi-long (for me, anyway) chapter ahead. I'm not going to ramble, but please remember this isn't beta read so mistakes are likely. I'll edit them out when I re-read this!

"Hey guys," Marco exclaimed as he walked into the back yard of Pierre's home, Mario hot on his heels- almost hiding behind him- as the footballer's team mates turned to great him.

"Finally, I thought you were going to bail," Mats countered with a smirk as he and the others stood up and exchanged greetings. Pierre practically jumped on Marco as he seemingly came out of nowhere, the blond staggered back as he caught him, successfully bumping into Mario who grunted in annoyance. 

"Good to see you too, Auba!" Marco proclaimed as he placed his energetic friend back onto the ground, the other man laughed warily before pointing at Mario.

"Who's this? Your friend?" Pierre asked in near perfect English as he scratched the back of his head, Mario frowned.

"Isn't that much obvious?" The youngest man nearly growled as he clutched onto the back of Marco's shirt, half out of nervousness and the other half to give himself a sense of familiarity in the foreign setting.

"Oh ho, he's quite blunt this one," the Gabonese man said with a laugh as he extended his hand out in Mario's direction. "The names Pierre, nice to meet you and welcome to my home." The smaller man reluctantly shook his hand.

"Mario, thanks for letting me come over," said man answered quietly as he tightened his grip on Marco's shirt, the older man turned and nodded his head in the other people's direction. 

"Go say hello," the older man insisted though Mario only widened his eyes in response.

"I'd rather not," he nearly whimpered as he took another step forward, half shielding him from the group of men who all exchanged confused looks. 

"He's really, really shy. Anyway, guys this is Mario. He's going to be staying with me for awhile so I thought it would do him some good to get to know you all." Marco covered as he shot Pierre a _I'll tell you later, don't ask right now,_ look. 

"No need to be shy, Mario." Mats promised as he reclined back in his chair, a beer in his hand as he turned his eyes away from the fire. "You'll find we're all just a bunch of laid back guys who like drinking and cook outs." 

"That's absolutely accurate," Pierre promised as he slung an arm around Marco's shoulders, being careful not to hit Mario's hand. The Gabon international smiled at the smallest man, "please make yourself at home. Can I offer you anything to drink?"

"Uhm, anything is fine. I haven't drank before s-"

"You haven't drank before?" Marco howled as he whipped his head around and stared at his house mate, eyes scrutinizing his body movements. Mario looked pissed and offended at the inquisition. "Mats get this boy a beer, a cocktail, anything, something! He's missing out." 

"Heard you loud and clear," the dark haired defender answered wistfully as he reached into a nearby cooler, waving Mario over after he removed the drink from the ice. The young brunette reluctantly approached him, "have a seat. Kuba scoot your ass over." 

Marco watched the younger man look back at him utterly helpless as he was all but forced to take a seat in between his two team mates. Pierre led him to the back deck where a small fire was going, food cooking over it as Łukasz, another one of their team mates, tended to it. The Polish international said a quiet "hello," before returning to his work.

"What's going on, Mars? You look like you've seen a ghost," Pierre whispered as he took a sip of a drink that sat on a lone glass table, he offered it to Marco who politely declined after implying that he had to drive home.

"It's just been a very long day, Pierre." Marco stated tiredly as he hopped up on the deck's banister, he glanced nervously towards the other fire pit the group of friends were seated around and not to his surprise, Mario was looking at him nervously- though it seemed as if he had relaxed, if only a little.

"How did the adoption interview go?" The slightly younger man inquired as he took a seat next to the blond, before Marco could answer Pierre grunted as something seemed to click together. "Don't tell me, that's your boy now?" 

"God when you put it that way it makes me feel weird, no, I didn't adopt Mario but I might as well have." Marco mumbled as he rubbed his hands together awkwardly. "LEt me guess? You want to know all about it now, right?" The darker haired man nodded his head, Marco sighed. "Well first he broke my nose a-"

"He BROKE your nose?" Pierre asked with a chuckle as he took a sip of his drink, Marco pointed at his face in silent confirmation. "Well boss will be pissed but that's none of my business."

"Oh shut up, you sound just like that stupid meme." Marco added with a laugh as he punched his friend in the shoulder, the latter put his hand up defensively. 

"Just tell me what happened." 

After thirty minutes of relaying the days events off in perfect detail, Marco hopped up from his spot and fixed himself a burger, thanking Łukasz as he did so. Pierre followed him quietly, only speaking when they were back out of ear shot of everyone else. 

"That's some heavy stuff, my man. You sure you're prepared to help the boy? Sounds like he needs a lot of it," he reasoned as he took a bite of the piping hot sandwich, Marco sighed.

"I know it's going to take a lot of time and effort but I think I'm up for the challenge," he stated blandly as a loud round of laughs echoed across the yard. "At least it sounds like he's blending in okay, maybe we should go over there. You're the host after all, it's your duty to keep people entertained."

"Is it now? Would’ve had me fooled! How many times do we come to your house only to find you half asleep?" Pierre remarked with a sly grin as he followed the blond off of the deck, "speaking of which, Kampl and Immobile passed out on the couch awhile ago. All cuddled up next to each other under a blanket, we took a thousand photos. Let's just say the black mail will be that of quality."

Marco cracked a smile as he circled the group, taking a seat next to Łukasz so he was seated in front of the fire, directly in front of Mario- who had a brilliant smirk on his face. 

"Damn, Marco, this guy's hilarious. You really found him at the brothel?" Mats asked as he wiped tears from his eyes, the blond paled.

"What? No! I did no such thing," he exclaimed with a look of disgust before he scowled at Mario, who beamed at the reaction. "Mario you're a dick! Really?" 

"It's better than the real story, and besides they thought it was funny." Mario slurred as he took another drink of whatever Mats had provided for him, Marco raised any eyebrow.

"Are you drunk right now?" 

"What's it to you?" The smallest man hissed though it came out long winded and almost childish sounding, Marco laughed.

"You're drunk, you're actually drunk! I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you're already wasted," he teased as he shot Mats a dirty look.

"Don't look at me, he's only had two drinks." The defender said with a smirk as he leaned back on the bench, his arm shooting around Mario who scowled bitterly. "Poor thing's a light weight, where did you meet this guy for real? Why's he staying with you? Also, how did the final interview go?"

Mario's eyes narrowed as he honed in on Marco over the fire's bright flames, even in his current state he shifted his demeanor back to his usual, guarded self. Eyes holding onto the blond's gaze as he silently pleaded with him not to embarrass him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work.

"Well I didn't go to it, I kind of got caught up in the middle of an argument between him and the woman who runs the place. Long story short, he grew out of the system. We got to talking and I invited him to stay with me, that's all there is to it." Marco stated cautiously, making sure his words were precise and well thought over- though Mario still didn't look pleased with that- but he knew he could have said a lot worse also.

"Yeah, that," Mario nearly growled as he stood up on his shaking legs, Mats and Kuba both reached out to help balance him but the smaller man swatted their hands away. "So much for a mutual understanding, are you just going to tell everyone?" 

"Mario with all due respect, they're my friends. They couldn't care less about what your past is, so long as you're here, that's whats important after all." Marco explained as he stood up in turn, "do you feel the need to get so defensive? It's not that big of a deal, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"To you there isn't," Mario replied with a frown, "god, are you that..." he paused and looked around, setting down his drink as he did so, "fucking ignorant?" 

Marco felt his jaw go slack as his friends all averted their gazes, most choosing to stare into the fire while some stared off into the darkness. 

"Mario, deck, now." The footballer grumbled as he pointed at the wooden structure behind him, beside him Łukasz and Pierre exchanged unsure glances. 

"Fine," the younger man practically seethed as he danced around Mats' legs and stumbled after Marco, who winded up grabbing his arm and leading him to the back deck. Once out of ear shot of the footballer's friends, Mario shook his head. "Can you just..." he bit his lip and brought his hands up to rub his eyes. "Marco...."

"Mario, look at me," the blond commanded as he grabbed onto the smaller man's shoulders, giving him his undivided attention. Mario didn't comply. 

"I'm drunk," Mario finally admitted with a sharp intake of air, "I'm drunk and I'm sad." 

"Sad? Because I told them where I met you?" Marco asked, in need of clarification before he made himself feel like an even bigger idiot. _Why is God testing my patience this much? Is this supposed to make me learn something even greater than that? Am I sure this whole thing was coincidental or does He have other ideas?_ He asked himself as he briefly glanced up at the sky.

He wasn't a firm believer in any religion, though he did believe something was looking out for everyone. Whether it was fate, destiny, Karma, God, or something extraterrestrial, he wasn't sure but he also wasn't a fan of coincidences. He thought everything happened for a reason, he knew the saying wouldn't be as common if it didn't. Good or bad, sometimes people didn't have a say in what happened to him, he thought. 

_How we choose to deal with it is entirely up to us._

"Nothing you said, Marco. I don't know what's wrong with me, does that make any sense?" Mario whined as he completely covered his eyes with his hands, even though Marco couldn't see it he knew without a doubt he was crying.

"Mario, you're drunk. It sometimes makes it hard to control your emotions," Marco explained as he tightened his grip onto the smaller man's shoulders. "You're okay, you've just had a long day...do you want to go home?"

"No," his companion promised when a tremor ran through his body, "I want to stay so you can talk to your friends. I'll just stay up here and out of your way." 

"No, nonsense, come on." Marco said with a sad smile as he grabbed one of the younger boy's hands and tore it away from his eye, that was- as he expected- glazed over with liquid. "They're understanding, it's been a long day after all. Let's chat for a few minutes then head out, we can watch a film then go to sleep. How's that?" 

Mario sighed and dropped his other hand, Marco still held on tightly to the other but he was too tired to fight him off. Glancing over to where the other men were sitting and laughing he reluctantly gave in, allowing the blond footballer to drag him back towards the fire. 

Łukasz forfeited his spot and took up the seat between Mats and Kuba, leaving the duo the open spots next to Pierre who smiled when they came back.

"You guys want to go to lake Königssee next time we have a break? We were just talking about how much we wanted to go since it's finally warmed up a bit." Pierre asked as he patted the bench next to him, Marco taking the first open seat, leaving Mario on the end. He finally, albeit cautiously, let Mario's hand fall from his own. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. You down, Mario?" Marco inquired with a smile, his eyes shining with an _I told you they were understanding_ kind of look. 

"Sounds like fun, I've never been there before." Mario answered with a feigned smile as he silently reminded himself to _stop being such an asshole_ , something he had promised Marco, yet failed to abide by on several occasions in the day. _God, it's only been 18 hours and I guarantee he's already tired of me._ He thought to himself as he took a bottle of water that Kuba so kindly offered. 

After that he was silent. Marco and the others chatted idly about several off topics and a few things related to their club- something Mario rolled his eyes at- but nothing more was brought up of the situation that had previously aroused. The eighteen year old was more than grateful. 

Eventually, it grew late into the night. Late enough for even the wildest of the bunch to seem utterly exhausted and it was decided at that time that everyone would be going back to their respectable houses. The goodbyes were quick, something Mario was even more grateful for seeing as he already felt like he had made a fool of himself. 

He noted that alcohol and him didn't get along nearly as well as he thought they would, he doubted he would ever touch the stuff again. Marco quietly escorted him to the car once everything was said and done. The ride back to the house was one spent in absolute silence, though neither could be sure if it was from the exhaustion they felt or the leftover aggravation from the almost constant arguing.

Unannounced to Marco, Mario silently began to debate whether or not he should actually stay with the footballer. He knew it was a tad melodramatic but the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a burden or an annoyance, though part of his brain shouted that he already was one. That he had been since he was eight and that he would be until the day he drew his last breath. 

Should he decide to stay, he knew he would have a lot of atoning to do. A lot would have to be done to patch what small friendship they had formed and he knew it was all on him to make sure things were fixed sufficiently. Marco had asked for some leeway when it came to his strict issues with trust and acceptance, and though he had agreed he knew it was easier said than done.

In no way, shape, or form was he one hundred percent certain of Marco's intentions- he questioned them almost once a minute but he would never admit to such a thing. What he would own was the fact that the man driving the Aston Martin seemed to have a heart of gold. Something felt right about him, though there was no way to know for certain what it was that made Mario feel that way he just knew that it made him feel safe. Comfortable, even though he was anything but.

Should he decide to leave, he would be on his own. For what he felt would be permanent, he would be stuck on the streets, strapped for cash and without a place to call his own. When he took into consideration how awful the streets could be, and how awful people could be he realized how idiotic he was to consider it an option.

 _He opened his home to me, he welcomed me with open arms, even introduced me to his friends...promised me work and provided me with things I could only once dream of. He's a good person, but what's he going to get out of this?_

Mario thought as he strummed his fingers along the interior of the luxury car, he took note of how close they were to the gated community in which the house Marco owned resided in. 

_Maybe I should try to tell him one thing about myself every day...saying too much at once would overwhelm the both of us and I think he deserves that much from me._

"My parents died in a plane crash back ten years ago," Mario stated as if he was speaking about the weather. The uncalled for statement nearly made Marco slam on the breaks.

"What?" He asked in need of clarification, completely oblivious to the fact Mario had devised a plan to begin to open up his heart.

"My parents and I were on a plane ten years ago when it crashed. They died on impact, I didn't even get knocked out. Saw the whole thing, had to wait two days for help to arrive because the location was so remote and the navigation system had failed. We got caught out in a storm and the rest is history. Thirty seven people died on that plane, all of them except for me and two others but they had wounds too substantial to even offer assistance to me.

For two solid days I sat, or more like hung in my seat, ten feet off the ground with the plane resting on the mountains. My parents were crushed but in perfect sight, for two days they were all I looked at. I remember every second of that, I don't think I slept once or went into shock. I think every haunting second of those forty eight hours will stay with me until the day I die...I know they will, really."

Marco parked the car in the drive way, eyes staring blankly ahead as he processed the information that Mario had relayed so randomly. The latter stared dead ahead too, no tears in his eyes but a small frown on his face, as if he had more that he wanted to say but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I'm sure you're tired of hearing the words _I'm sorry_ so instead I will tell you how brave you are for overcoming that. I'm sure you're parents would be proud of you for that, Mario. I really think they would..." the blond stated as he shut the car off and slipped out of the drivers side, before Mario could mimic his actions the footballer opened the passenger door and offered him a hand, which he took without a word or a look. 

The pair walked into the house silently, only once they were in the brightly lit foyer did Marco do what he had been aching to do since the confession rolled off of the younger man's lips. He pulled Mario- who was as stiff as board and shocked at the contact- into his arms and whispered a simple sentence into his ear.

"Thank you for telling me."

Mario unenthusiastically patted the blond on the back before breaking away, his eyes appeared as a void so dark that had even Marco, who had his own demons to hide, shaking in his boots. 

"Thanks for not saying you're sorry, you don't even know how sick of those words I am." The smaller man jeered as he spun on his heel before walking up the flight of stairs. "I'm going to get some more comfortable clothes on, I'll be back down later." 

Marco watched him disappear behind the wooden door to the guest room with mixed emotions, but the look the other man gave him stood out in comparison to everything else he felt, everything else he had started to feel.

_One way or another, I swear I'm going to get to the bottom of the mystery that is you, Mario Götze._


	6. Jurassic Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hopefully will have another chapter posted tomorrow night but I wanted to get this out of the way just in case because of the FA Cup finale and the Pokal finale...I am a nervous, emotional wreck in a wonderful way. :,D 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, and remember it's not beta read so mistakes are quite possible!

Marco finished drying the water off of his face as he dropped his bath towel, throwing on his boxers and shorts as quickly as possible he exited his bathroom, set on grabbing a glass of water and lounging on the couch for the rest of the evening. Mario was yet to emerge from his room and while curiosity burned in the footballer's chest he wasn't nosy enough to check and see what the hold up was.

Sighing he descended the stairs, taking two at a time as he darted off to his kitchen. After filling a glass with water he sauntered into the living room, making himself comfortable against the cool leather as he flipped the television on. As usual, nothing sparked his interest whilst scrolling throughout the channels so he decided to take up his own idea of watching a film. 

With a groan he hoisted himself off of the couch, basically crawling to the DVD rack that sat directly beside his television. Eyes skimming the titles, he finally narrowed it down to a few select things. Grabbing those he moved towards the disc player, pushing his hair out of his face when beads of water cascaded down his cheeks. 

"What are you doing?"

Cursing as he dropped the DVD box in his hand, Marco turned to look over his shoulder at the man who had interrupted his peace. Mario stood with his arms crossed beside the couch, his expensive attire had been interchanged for a loose fitting tank and a pair of baggy black sweats. His hair was still out of his face but showed signs of being stripped of it's product; an amused smile graced his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

"Get an eyeful why don't you? You can always take a picture, they do last a lot longer." The younger man teased as he walked towards Marco, he settled for taking up a seat next to him on the floor. The older man scowled before picking up where he left off. "What are you going to watch?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Marco noted dully as he showed the DVD cases off to Mario, who looked a little more puzzled than anything. 

"Jurassic Park is a great movie," he said with a smile. "It's my favorite, actually."

"Is it?" Marco inquired as he plucked said movie out of it's case. "It's one of mine too. Wanna make some popcorn and watch it with me?" 

"Yeah that sounds great," Mario said with a small smile as he scampered off of the floor, "do you want me to make it? If you tell me where it's at it I wouldn't mind." 

"That would be appreciated, the popcorn is in the top cabinet above the microwave." Marco paused as he looked back at his new house mate, "are you sobered up already? That didn't last very long."

"Yeah I think it's because I only had a few drinks, it wore off almost as soon as we got in the door." Mario said dismissively as he headed into the kitchen, leaving Marco sitting in the living room floor. The latter shrugged and pulled himself off of the cold hardwood, once up he grabbed the softest blanket he owned and made himself comfortable on the couch, not playing the film until his companion returned.

Mario emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, popcorn in one hand, two glasses of water in the other.

"Oh, didn't realize you already had something to drink," he said shyly as he took a seat on the far end of the couch, Marco raised his arm and reached as far he could.

"Thanks for bringing me one, but how am I going to eat popcorn when you're all the way on the other end of the couch?" He asked with a laugh as he shot his new friend a lopsided smile, Mario shook his head.

"I want an end seat, I can't stand not being able to lean on something when I'm on a couch. Why can't you move?" 

"Because I'm comfortable and this is my seat, I've never sat any where else on this couch and I don't plan on it today." He answered with a chuckle, "just move over here and lean on me. I don't care, I just want popcorn." 

"I don't know Marco, this is all happening so suddenly," Mario answered with a snort, Marco shot him a dirty look. 

"Get your head out of the gutter and get over here, no one is coming between me and my true love...which is popcorn. Not you," he clarified as he made _grabby_ hands in the younger man's direction. Mario sighed before conceding defeat, scooting over as far as he could until he was nestled in right next to Marco, the bowl of popcorn still perched in his lap.

"Happy?" He practically seethed as he turned his attention to the television, waiting for Marco to press _play_ , which he did after taking note of Mario's actions. 

"Perfectly content, yes." 

"Can you at least put some clothes on?" Mario asked with a laugh as he poked the blond footballer in the shoulder, "I mean seriously?" 

"No, I'm not moving and I like being half naked, thank you very much." Marco said smugly, "if it makes you uncomfortable then I don't know what to tell you other than we have the same anatomy and to suck it up." 

"Coming from a guy who sees his friends naked on an almost daily basis that's not very comforting," Mario shot back as he sunk further into the couch, taking a handful of popcorn. 

"Probably more people than you've ever seen naked so I don't know why you're making fun of me," Marco countered slyly as he mimicked his partner's actions, Mario choked on one of the kernels. 

"Why on earth would I want to see twenty something naked men? What kind of jab was that supposed to be?" He asked with a laugh as he looked at the man he was leaning on, "you aren't half bad, Marco Reus." 

"I know, I'm smart, hilarious, talented, and gorgeous. I've got everything going for me," the blond shot back as he reached over and poked his house mate on the cheek. "But thanks kid, you're not half bad either."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, you're only half of the things you've listed." Mario countered as he watched the opening credits fade out and the beginning of the movie begin to play. 

"Which ones would that be?" Marco said curiously as he titled his head to the side, reaching for more popcorn as he studied the man next to him with scrutinizing eyes. 

"I'll let you think about it," Mario answered flatly, "now shut up and watch the movie." 

Scoffing Marco turned his attention to the film, though his mind momentarily went elsewhere as he thought of what Mario had meant with his last few sentiments. The movie dragged on in the background as Marco continued to find himself lost in thought, absentmindedly eating popcorn as he focused less on the roar of the tyrannosaurus Rex and more on the breathing of the man next to him.

Mario's eyes were completely focused and trained on every movement he saw on the screen, at times he would mouth certain lines from the film, showcasing just how much he really had watched it. Marco found himself stealing glances more often than not, he chalked it up to curiosity but something didn't sit entirely right with him. He just wasn't sure what that was.

"I'm really tired," Mario whispered about halfway through the movie, and when Marco took a hard look at him he could see the truth behind his words. The younger man's eyes were drooping, dark circles hiding underneath of them as his eyelids drew closer and closer to being closed entirely. Marco bit his lip.

"Go get some rest, it's nearly four in the morning. I don't have to be back at training for another two days so don't worry about having to wake up early. Sleep as long as you'd like, we can go to the store tomorrow and grab some lunch or something." Marco stated coolly as the man that sat beside him shifted his weight away from him. 

Marco's side immediately felt cool in the brisk air of the house. He tightened his blanket around himself, covering the spot.

"Yeah, okay. Goodnight," Mario mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, placing the bowl on the table as he grabbed his water glass and headed into the kitchen. Marco watched him reappear moments later before heading towards the stairs, he stopped about halfway up. "Also, thanks again." 

"Don't mention it, just try and get some rest. You deserve it," Marco prompted as he gave the most honest smile he could muster, the younger man didn't necessarily return it.

"You too," he offered before disappearing up the stairs entirely. Marco sighed, reaching for his phone that sat on the end of the table as he once again found himself unable to focus on the film that he loved so dearly. With no notifications from his friends, he locked the device again, though that did nothing to quell the antsy feeling he felt spreading throughout him.

 _Why am I like this at four in the morning? Why can't I just be exhausted?_ He thought to himself as he gingerly touched his nose, cringing as his fingers brushed over the swollen tissue. He didn't even want to think about what his boss would have to say about it.

After some time spent in thought the movie drew to a close. Marco switched the television off before taking the rest of the popcorn and the extra glass of water to the kitchen, he was slightly surprised to find a small note on his counter top. Picking the paper up, he brought it closer to his face for inspection. 

**Marco,**

**My pride won't let me say this to you aloud but I hope you know today has been one of the best days of my life. I know I'm a pain and an emotional wreck but I really enjoy your company and your friends aren't nearly as bad as I thought they would be. I'm going to make an effort, I want this to work out more than anything.**

**-Mario**

**P.S. Sorry for embarrassing you earlier, I didn't mean anything by it...**

Marco sighed as he re-read the note over and over again, in need of clarification though the words clearly wouldn't change. With a smile he folded the note up in his hand, deciding to take it upstairs instead of leave it out in the open, he reasoned that would be inconsiderate. 

Before heading to his room he plucked a pen out of a drawer and grabbed a piece of scrap paper, scribbling his own note out just in case Mario woke up before he did.

**Mario,**

**That was very kind of you.**

**I know you didn't mean anything by it and there are no hard feelings, trust me. I want this to work, too. I'm glad you had a good day, I did too. Like I said, fate has a weird way of making things work out. I know this is just another part of fate, there’s no way our meeting wasn't.**

**I think you and I will be good friends, I hope so anyway.**

**-Marco :)**

Not caring enough to re-read his own message he flicked the lights off in the kitchen and ascended the spiral stairs that lead to his bedroom. Before going into his room he paused in the hallway, debating whether or not he should listen for any signs of activity coming from Mario's room. This time his curiosity got the better of him. 

Pressing an ear to the door, he listened for several moments before hearing a very quiet snore emit from the other side. His lips twinged up into a smile until he heard a whimper echo throughout the walls the next, it was quickly followed by another round of panicked noises though snores interrupted them every now and again. 

The smile he had put on quickly flipped into a frown as he listened to the disturbing sounds, knowing Mario was asleep but also knowing he wasn't dreaming of anything pretty. 

Part of him wanted to wake the younger man, console him, tell him anything to make him feel more comfortable in the foreign setting but something told him that his home wasn't the problem. That he wasn't the problem either. He couldn't fix everything, especially not in a day. Though it pained him to listen to the sound of the other man experiencing what he thought were night terrors, he knew he couldn't intervene. 

He tore himself away from the door and stalked into his room, desperate to rid his mind of the pained sounds that were nonexistent on his side of the house. No matter what his heart told him his brain told him pushing himself on Mario would only create ripples in their frail friendship. 

He was by no means super human and he could only do so much but that didn't stop him from wanting to do something more.


	7. Kerzenlicht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something awakens inside a formerly abandoned part of Mario's soul and Marco has a sleepless night in light of an unexpected visitor to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from holiday, off of work, and actually home for once, thank the stars rare alignment for this update. I won't waste time talking, I hope you enjoy! :) This part will be from Mario's P.O.V and the next update will tell Marco's. Not proof read, mistakes are likely but hopefully not abundant.

For the second time that evening Marco had to remind himself he was in fact, only human. He couldn't fight invisible demons or slay haunting ghosts of memories, no sliver of hope burned in his chest when Mario stormed in. Bleary eyed, half asleep but awake enough to be alert, Marco hadn't even had the chance to close his eyes. 

If words had ever been needed more than they were in that moment, Marco couldn't recall it. All he felt capable of was opening his mouth, calling out his house mates name like a faint whisper as he reached his arms open, not bothering to turn on a light as the one from the hallway poured into the room. 

Mario's steps were uneasy, unsure, as he hugged himself and waded closer to Marco's bed, a territory so foreign he felt awful for invading. The younger man bit back every ounce of fire he had running through his veins as he allowed himself to be swept off of his feet, his body becoming enveloped in something soft and warm- what was Marco's arms and what were the blankets seemingly melded into one.

He felt the heat consume him, push away every last ounce of the fleeting nightmare that had so cruelly awakened him. Tears refused to fall, eyes refused to stay open, and lips refused to move away from their usual place. Sleep snared Mario in, pulling him into a blissfully unaware state almost as quickly as he had awoken from it. 

How he had thought to look for Marco immediately after was something neither tried, nor could, understand. The blond, exhausted and concerned, stay awake most of the night. Thoughts a whirlwind in his mind as he desperately connected dots, drawing in missing pieces of the puzzle- that was the man in his arms- until the sun rose brightly over the glistening horizon. 

Marco sighed, a deep rugged noise that sounded nothing like himself, though it showed his true state at the time. He finally allowed himself to sink into his mattress, his arms slipping away from Mario as he gently laid his aching head onto the coolest part of his pillow. To his surprise, sleep did not come next. 

Instead, his mind continued to run like a well oiled machine. Dissecting every last move and decision he had made in the day prior as the dawn of a new one threatened to peer out from behind the clouds. He felt strange, unlike himself, softer- would be the word he would use to describe it- as he ran his hands up and down his shoulders; clinging to every ounce of warmth he could in the cold atmosphere of his house. 

Mario stirred at some point, sitting up briefly to gather his surroundings before sinking back into the bed. At another point he turned over, coming face to face with the troubled expression Marco sported as he finally drifted off into unconscious oblivion. Guilt came next, Mario felt strangely remorseful for robbing the chance of sleep from Marco but he did not regret seeking his comfort when he needed it the most. 

Strangely enough, it suited him. He hated asking for hand outs, hated accepting help but even he, a good for nothing orphan, knew he couldn't put on the facade forever. He sometimes wondered if that was still a ruse or if it was actually who he was now. Somewhere along the way, faking personality traits and stealing characteristics from those around to get what he wanted, he wondered if he forgot what his true self was like.

The mask he wore almost refused to come off, refused to allow anyone in when in fact he had already let so many people in before. _You act like them, talk like them, and now you want more from them? What more could you need? You don't need anyone but yourself._ A distant part of his brain told him, warning of the consequences of letting others know too much about your true self, but Mario was beginning to feel detoured from that line of thinking.

He wasn't sure if it was the miraculous generosity Marco showed him, or if it was the way his friends laughed and treated him like an equal, but something inside his once cold chest stirred and burned like a candlelight in a darkened room. It was faint, not enough to quell the raging storm in his mind, but a start to a sort of calm that would come soon after. 

Mario buried his face into his pillow, hand reaching blindly in the dully lit room until he found what he was looking for, Marco's own hand. He gripped it gently, tracing abstract patterns on the skin as tried to return the comfort he had stolen from the blond the night before. Only briefly glancing up, Mario saw the lines of worry and exhausting on the older man's face soften until he looked completely at peace. 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Mario carefully slid out of his house mate's bed, it's owner didn't stir. After shutting the door behind him, Mario descended the stairs without a sense of haste; the only thing on his mind after awakening being that of food, he headed into the kitchen where he fixed himself a bowl of cereal. As he leaned against the island something caught his attention, his note, though the handwriting had changed. Marco.

 **Mario,  
** That was very kind of you.  
I know you didn't mean anything by it and there are no hard feelings, trust me. I want this to work, too. I'm glad you had a good day, I did too. Like I said, fate has a weird way of making things work out. I know this is just another part of fate, there’s no way our meeting wasn't.  
I think you and I will be good friends, I hope so anyway.  
-Marco :)  
Mario forced back the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips, when he said he didn't know what caused his sudden change of heart he was wrong. He knew damn well what had reopened that once sturdily closed heart of his, Marco's kindness and generosity far surpassed anything he felt he deserved. For some reason Marco seemed to see the good in him, though Mario constantly debated if there truly was any.  
He guessed it wasn't an easy task, taking care of him that is, as he finished off his bowl of cereal and placed the dish away in the washer. His almost infant like need for basic necessities burned in the back of his head, though he truly hadn't missed a step, going from the orphanage to Marco's in one day, it felt as if he had taken a giant leap in the right direction. Yesterday felt like an eternity ago already, some parts of it were missing but he was unsure if that was the fault of his tired mind or the alcohol he had regrettably consumed. 

Grabbing a pen from the top drawer on the island, he flipped the paper over and began out his own note, continuing the chain of communication, much like Marco did before him.

**Marco,**

**I think I might finally have an understanding on why I am the way I am, though somethings are for me to know and for you to find out on your coalition, ergo I won't be telling you, I think you won't come to regret your decision of letting me stay here.**

**Anyway, thanks for everything. God, it already seems like it's been forever since yesterday- though I doubt you feel the same considering how exhausted you were. Thanks for the comfort and for not asking me about it, that was really all I needed from you. You really don't disappoint, you know?**

**-Mario**

Deciding that was enough for the time being, Mario furrowed his brow as he scanned the kitchen. Eyes catching on every single misplaced item and piece of strewn about paper that littered the surface in it's entirety. He knew he wasn't capable of much but reasoned that maybe he should do something to return the favors Marco had done for him, so with tired and stiff-from-sleep movements he began the tedious work of cleaning Marco's home. 

Hours seemed to fly by like seconds during that, he worked tirelessly until he heard a set of footsteps thump down the stairs, he bit his lip. Marco emerged moments later, blackened skin under his eyes still showing his state of exhaustion though he did look much better than he had earlier in the morning. 

"You cleaned up the place?" Marco mumbled as he headed towards the fridge in search for a bottle of water, Mario nodded his head. "Thank you, I really appreciate that. It looks nicer than it ever has." 

"Nonsense, I just figured it was the least I could do." Mario began as he once again leaned back against the cool exterior of the island, "also, don't worry about what we had planned for the day. I think you should just relax, you need it since training starts again for you soon. Plus, your nose looks like shit." 

"Does it really?" Marco asked frantically as he glared at his reflection in one of the dishware cabinets, he frowned. "God, you're right."

"So yeah, rest, you need it." Mario answered nonchalantly as he grabbed the note off of the counter, as he walked out of the door he grabbed the blond's hand and slid the paper against it, their eyes meeting briefly in a silent yet mutual understanding. 

Marco unfolded the note, only after he was alone in the large room, his eyes nearly glistened over after the note was read and set aside. The stress of yesterday had not left and though it truly did feel like ages ago, it's remarkably powerful lesson stayed ever so close to the surface of his mind.

Tearing himself away from the kitchen he followed after Mario's invisible footsteps until he found him in the living room, curled up on the couch with the radio on- X Ambassadors' Unconsolable rolling on idly in the background- as Mario quietly sang along with it. Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, Marco watched the younger man's closed eyelids before taking note of how he gently swayed back and forth as he sang along to a song Marco himself loved and knew. 

The Mario of today was completely different than the Mario of yesterday, but the fire in his heart and untamable spirit burned bright even behind the crumbling mask. Marco wished he could watch it further crumble in that moment, exposing who he truly was dealing with, though he figured that was unfair to wish for. Mario's overnight progress in the attitude department was not something he was willing to wish away, he reveled in the peacefulness and calm that seemed to fill his once empty feeling home. 

Mario took note of the other man but made no move towards or away from him, he barely moved a muscle when Marco took a seat and his words didn't miss a beat as he quietly poured his soul into the music that was filling the room. The atmosphere had shifted, like a weight had been thrown from his chest, but it was still not prepared to let go of him forever. It instead hung over his head, threatening to come crashing down should he break his own promise to try and resolve his internal conflicts. He wasn't prepared to make that mistake. 

For the second time in a short period, Mario's frozen heart began to melt.


	8. Structure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa hey guys, sorry this took forever to update. I've been busy with work and school but I also just recently moved so I've been really busy. I will be posting more often but I'm not going to be able to do it as often as I did in the past, life has just gotten too demanding. I hope you understand that.
> 
> This isn't extremely long but I wanted to post something so I hope you enjoy it!

“Mario, can I tell you something?” Marco asked as he relaxed back into the couch, a content smile on his face despite the exhaustion and pain he felt. His house mate grunted in acknowledgment. “You have a really beautiful voice.”

“You're serious?” Mario inquired with a huff, eyes peeling open as the song he had been singing finally came to an end.

“Yeah, I’m serious.” 

“Shit,” Mario replied with a laugh, “no one's ever told me that before. I think I suck but I really do love music. If I like it enough to get the urge to sing along I don't fight it, but no one has ever complimented me on that before.”

“Well I think you should sing more often,” Marco said with a smile, “it's relaxing and they say music is the best therapy.”

“I guess you've got a point.” Mario mumbled as he cast a glance up at the mile high ceilings in the house. “Why don't you go back to bed? You sound terrible.”

“Don't wanna,” was the blond's simple and short reply, though the younger man could detect the lie in the statement he didn't comment further on it. 

“I see,” Mario stated with a slight frown, “how's your nose feel?”

“Like it looks...so terrible.” 

“I'm sorry.” The smaller man said as he brought his knees to his chest, “I really am.”

“S'okay, shit happens.” Marco replied in earnest as he leaned up to look at his companion. “You wanna play some video games?”

“Depends on what it is but I'd fucking love to,” Mario said with a laugh as the homeowner hopped off the couch, unveiling a ps4 that was shielded by a cabinet on the TV stand. 

“FIFA?”

“FIFA.” Mario replied with a click of his tongue, “but I'm gonna kick your ass and use Bayern Munich to do it.”

“Bring it on,” Marco challenged as he slipped the disc in the system and took a seat on the floor in front of the TV, Mario, despite his better judgment, got off the couch and sat beside him. The usual popped up before the game began, the EA sports logo and the familiar face of Lionel Messi, one of the football Gods, before they launched themselves into the game. Mario wasn't surprised at all when Marco picked Borussia Dortmund.

“Dammit,” Marco hissed when Mario scored a perfect volley using Robert Lewandowski to do it, though the celebration was short lived. In thirty seconds Marco scored a goal with himself, a perfect bicycle kick.

“I didn't know they gave you that trait, I've never seen you net a kick like that.” Mario seethed as he watched the animated team celebrate.

“There's a lot of things I can do that you don't know about, in game and out of it.” Marco said all too proudly and Mario couldn't help but laugh at the hidden meaning he found in that sentence.

“I've known you for a day and you're already trying to get my mind wandering to places it shouldn't,” he said through a laugh, “have you no pride, Marco Reus?”

“I've got too much of it,” the blond replied with a wink, “if you want to take both of those statements as innuendos then you can but that wasn't the intent.” 

The pair burst into laughter at that exchange, neither of them even caring that the game ended as a draw. Six rematches later and they still seemed evenly match, so they had to take each match to penalties. Marco won three and Mario won three, it was as if they couldn't get one over on one another and they eventually decided to call it quits when their seventh game ended in another draw.

“Okay so maybe we're about even when it comes to FIFA,” Mario mumbled as he put his controller on the ground, slinking back until he was laying flat on the cold wooden floor. To his surprise, Marco laid down next to him.

“Yeah, I’ll accept that, though.” The blond said with a smile as he looked up at the ceiling, wondering what had Mario so transfixed on it. “Can I tell you something?”

“Mhm,” Mario hummed as he turned his head slightly, looking at the man next to him.

“I'm glad I met you.” 

It was a simple remark but it was the first time Mario had heard those words before, too. He realized that Marco had a good habit of that, saying things he had never heard that made his heart beat just a bit faster for reasons he couldn't begin to explain. He was glad he had met the blond, too. Despite the fact Mario thought he was undeserving of the blond's company he was more than happy to have it. With that thought crossing his mind Mario began to wonder when he had gotten so lonely, he hadn't even realized it until this morning- when he woke up next to the only friend he's ever had- but now that the thought was in his head he found it impossible to shake it.

He had been so lonely since his parents had died and now he felt like he had a place he belonged. Even though it had only been a place he had been at for a short period of time he felt compelled to do whatever he could to stay here, to stay around Marco, who for some reason wanted to have a positive impact on his otherwise uneventful life. Mario remembered his promise from yesterday and it made him feel guilty. He didn't think it was fair that he acted the way he did to the only person who had ever been kind to him, besides his parents though he supposed the no longer counted.

He was going to work hard to change himself, if not for himself than for the man beside him who done everything under the sun for him in less than thirty hours. Marco was truly a saint, and Mario, who thought of himself like he was a devil, wondered how long it would be before the man to his right got tired of him, too. 

No, Marco had told him he wouldn't give up on him and he was going to believe that until he had reason to think otherwise. He wouldn't push this man away from him, he wouldn't risk that. Not even he was that stupid.

“I'm glad I met you, too.” Mario said with an honest smile, not even caring that a stray tear had rolled down his cheek. He didn't even notice it until he felt a slightly calloused thumb wipe it away, Marco just smiled down at him.

“Come on,” the blond stated as he hopped up to his feet, offering his hands to the younger man, “my floor isn't exactly comfortable.”

“You got that right,” Mario countered as he allowed himself to be hoisted up by the other man. “So what do you want to do today?”

“How about we watch a few movies and be couch potatoes? I'm still exhausted,” Marco admits with a small shrug of his shoulders as he climbs onto the couch, Mario sits down on the other end, not wanting to smother the man he was living with.

“I thought you said you weren't tired anymore?” Mario asks as he watched his house mate sigh in defeat.

“I’m really tired but I don't feel like sleeping more,” Marco said with a yawn, “if I didn't know any better I'd say you we're worried about me. That's definitely not your style.”

“None of this is really my style, let's be honest here.” He responds with a click of his tongue, “I've made a decision.”

“And that would be?”

“I'm gonna try to be a productive member of society and stop relying on you for everything. Even if that means I have to work at your shit club.”

“My club isn't shit.”

“Your club is shit, I’m not even sorry.” Mario replied with an honest laugh as he forced himself to sit up, “but I'm not wearing that gaudy yellow, yellow is not in my color scheme and I will not wear it.”

“If you want a job you'll wear what they tell you to wear.” Marco countered as he propelled himself upward, shooting his housemate a scrutinizing look.

“I'll wear the black attire, but not the yellow. Not happening, that's where I draw the line.”

And for some reason neither of them could properly explain, they laughed. As if the tension in the room was nonexistent and like the small amount of animosity they felt for one another was nothing more than a figment of their collective imaginations. 

“Hey Mario?”

“Yeah?”

“Let's go get lunch and go to the store, I changed my mind. I don't wanna sit here all day.” Marco flashed his companion a happy grin. 

Mario didn't hesitate to return it.

\- - - -

“I swear these photographers are so annoying,” Mario whined as he continued to push the cart down the isles, Marco, who seemed to be quite content despite the publicity, gathered his groceries without the slightest show of concern.

“They're just doing their job, I respect that.” The footballer answered as he pondered over what package of chicken to put in the cart, “I don't always like it but I understand that these people are just trying to make a living and if me grocery shopping is enough to help them put food on their tables then that's okay with me. They usually respect me enough to leave if I ask politely, in exchange for a short moment of my time of course.”

“How humble,” Mario mumbled under his breath to spite the fact the paparazzi were happily snapping photos of the pair. Getting fucking groceries. The younger man couldn't understand how that was worthy of news. _Marco Reus Goes Shopping with an Irritated Young Man,_ he could see the headlines now.

“Want me to get them to go away?” Marco asked with a sigh as he finally put a pack of organic chicken breasts into the bottom part of the shopping cart.

“Nah, just leave them, as long as they don't start shouting and asking a thousand questions then let them gawk at you like you're a God. I find it amusing, albeit a bit stupid.”

“Of course you would,” the blond teased as he grabbed the bottom part of the cart and started to lead them towards the front entrance. After the two checked out and made their way back to the car the horde of photographers had dispersed, something Mario was secretly grateful for.

“What's it like being famous?” He asked as he grabbed a pack of water bottles and put them in the small trunk of the Aston Martin, Marco grabbed an armful of bags and tossed them in the back without care.

“It's exactly like you think it would be,” he explained as he reached up to shut the trunk, grabbing the cart and walking a few spots down to the corral. “It's incredible yet exhausting, but I don't really think too much about it. I just feel blessed to be where I’m at, that's all.”

“I'm not sure if you're sincere or just trying to be but you're the kind of guy that deserves everything he has if it's the first one,” Mario said as he climbed into the passenger seat, “I hate assholes who have everything they could ever want but act like it's worthless to them. Like they deserve more.”

“Yeah, you're not the only one who feels that. I might be a bit of a spoiled brat but I worked for everything I have and I know I’m lucky. Luck had a lot to do with it, honestly.” Marco commented as he pulled the car out of the parking lot, “after we drop these off let's get lunch.”

“More like dinner, it's four o'clock.” Mario stated in a teasing tone as he glanced out of the passenger side window, Dortmund going past them in a colorful blur.

“Dinner it is then, sound good with you?”

“Yeah,” Mario closed his eyes with a smile, “sounds great.”

\- - - - -

“Holy shit everything here is so expensive,” the younger man gawked as he placed the menu down on the table. The restaurant was quiet and they were the only ones in there besides an older couple who sat on the other side of the establishment, and the staff who were prepping for dinner.

“Don't worry about it,” Marco said reassuringly as he flagged down a waiter, “you ready to order?”

“I can be,” Mario said weakly as he watched Marco order a steak, medium, and two sides of vegetables, he fought the urge to scoff at the health conscious decision. “Get whatever you want, Mario.”

“I'll take the steak, rare, with a baked potato and macaroni.” 

The waiter nodded his head as he wrote the order down, “anything else for you two?”

“Do you have cake?” Mario asked with a smile, ignoring the funny look Marco gave him over the question.

“We do.”

“Good, I'd like a whole chocolate cake please.”

Marco gawked at him.

“Sure thing, sir.” The employee said incredulously as he walked away from the table, literally scratching his head in confusion.

“The whole cake?”

Mario smirked.

“You said anything I wanted. I wanted a cake.”

The footballer slammed his head into the table in response.


	9. Update!

Hey everyone, 

Long time no see, I suppose I have a few things to explain and I do hope some of you are still with me on this, but anyway, let me give you guys the run down.

Around the time I stopped posting I had a whole lot of things going on with my life that were honestly just spiraling out of control, when I was about to make my comeback to this I unfortunately found out a good friend of mine had committed suicide. Times were tough and things weren't really progressing the way I wanted them to, I was shocked and had a million other things to deal with but still, I wanted to come back to this. 

Then college about killed me but guess what? I graduated. It only about drained me completely but I finally did. Now I'm subjecting myself to more horror of a biomedical engineering degree but hey, that's next year-me's problem. I'm not worrying about it for now.

Also, I've been in the process of moving. Yikes. It's not even over yet, not until next month when I actually leave for my new place but still, has anyone ever told you that being an adult is awful? It's because it is. Don't grow up, just...don't.

Anyway, that's really just the tip of the iceberg but I don't want to make this super lengthy and boring so that's just the major events that caused me to drop off the face of the earth. Over the next few weeks I'll be going back and editing some old works, this included, replying to any and all missed comments and brining my works back to life. 

So, I'm not dead, just a horribly tired and strained adult who had some explaining to do. Thank you guys so much for all the support, you guys are seriously just awesome and I can't thank you all enough. 

I'll keep you posted on when this and my other works will resume and definitely won't disappear again for as long as I have. 

I also want to say, and feel this necessary even though I'm just some girl writing this on the internet who may not know you personally, but if you ever think about taking your life please reach out and get help. The emotional damage suicide has on all parties involved is just incredibly sad and horrific. Suicide is never the answer, yes life can be awful and things can seem like the end of the world but trust me, it isn't. There's always hope, you just have to be willing to let someone help you. Hell, even I will talk you through whatever you need. Just contact me! 

Again, thank you all so much and I look forward to my extremely late return. I wouldn't be back if it wasn't for you guys so thank you. :)

Have a great day/night and this will be back on track as soon as possible!

-CB

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos = motivation in the purest form. If you're feeling so kind, please leave something. XO.


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